


When I'm Gone

by Fcknziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Relationship Issues, boyfriend zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:48:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2265165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fcknziam/pseuds/Fcknziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn has questions about your relationship</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm Gone

You’d be sitting at the dining room table, books spread out in front of you in hopes that the scenery would encourage you to study, but it didn’t do much good. Between your computer with free reign to browse and the fact you’d been much too excited to see Zayn after of very busy day, not much got done. You two hadn’t been able to see each other as much as you’d like recently. You lived together yes, but most days you might as well had been a city away. Between his hectic studio schedule and your new classes, which at registration you didn’t realize exactly how much was truly required of you, there was hardly a time when both of you were in the same place for very long, and you’d missed the times where you and Zayn had some quite time. The two of you could talk for hours, about everything and nothing. The first thing he did when he would walk in, was shout for you in the small space, before putting his head in your lap and go on about something. So when you see him sulk into the quietly with a settled frown, your heart sinks a little bit. He set his jacket across one of the stool at the kitchen, after rummaging through the pockets, getting out a new pack of cigarettes and lighter. He smoked a lot when you first met, but after you admitted to him that it bothers you he tried hard to quite them, and he did. He only ever did it when he was upset, buying a new pack and lighter on his way home. You looked up at him offering him a small smile from you spot at the table, only to have him walk right past you without so much as a look. Zayn was never quiet, not with you at least. While in public he was pretty private keeping to himself, only speaking in interviews when addressed and even then, they were short impersonal answers. But he was so different with you, he was affectionate and talkative, and loud. He could talk for hours about anything and you where more than happy to listen, so when he was quiet like this you hated it.  
After a few minutes of letting him cool off a bit on the small balcony, you closed the book on your lap, which you’d been pretending to study for the past five minutes, making your way over to the small sliding door. He was hunched over the banister look out at the view of trees and you had behind your buildings. From the short time you’d left him out there the ashtray had seemed to acquired already quite a bit of butts. You ignored the pestering voice in your head telling him how unhealthy it was, and take a few causes steps towards him. As he heard you come up behind him his shoulders seemed to visibly relax with you being there. You settled into a space next to him wrapping both your arms around his middle. He took another drag of the cigarette with a huff draping one arm around you, still looking out at the trees.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked softly still waiting to be met by your favorite pair of brown eyes, even if they were a little sad at the moment. He took the last drag of the cigarette, mashing it into the small tray, draping both arms around your waist holding you tight against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead.  
“Baby, it’s cold out. You should get inside.” He whispered, rubbing is hand up and down your arm, feeling the obvious goose bumps there, in an attempt to warm you up. He always did this when he was upset, or stressed about something, deflect his attention back to you, avoiding it. At least until he was ready to talk, and he would come to you he always would.   
You give him a small nod and a whispered ‘okay’, before going back in the house giving him a bit more time. You clean up your mess at the table and decide to make some dinner for the two of you. Zayn’s favorite of yours, a pasta recipe your mother had given you, in hopes that the smell of garlic would bring him inside and cheer him up a bit.  
As the night began winding down, and the two of you started your nightly routine before bed without a word from him during dinner, you began to give up hope on him opening up to you. For a moment you thought maybe you were the reason he was upset, that he’d read another stupid article, or if your schedules were beginning to get to him, but you couldn’t get yourself to fully believe it. When he pulled you tight into his chest, after he’d turned off the lights it threw you for a moment, but you didn’t resist. You let him run his fingers through your hair for a few moments, knowing for some odd reason it relaxed him, before trying again.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
He let out a big breath before he shift to his side so he was face to face with you.  
“It’s just, we’ve been having all these meetings, and recordings and the album is coming together great and I’m so happy about it. I am I swear its just-“ he looked away from your eyes for a second, letting out another sigh.   
“What is it?” you reached your hand up playing with the hair at the back of his neck to calm him down. You’d never really seen him so frazzled before and it worried you. He was usually so together, always knowing the right thing to say, always so sure of himself.  
“I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed with everything. We’re in the studio everyday, and making decions on all this new stuff. And then the tour – “ he shifted his body looking up at the ceiling but brnging you with him, and you happily draped your arm across his middle.  
“I’m just so sick of leaving you. I worry about you.” His voice was barely above a whisper but the words still stung. You hated that he worried about you, he had nothing to worry about. Zayn worrying only made you worry. You knew he needed to focus all his attention and energy on his work and knowing that even a fraction of it was spent worrying about you miles away made you feel guilty. You shimmied your body, hovering your face over his.  
“I’m alright Zayn, more than alright. I’m happy you get to do something that you love, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be here when you get back.” You smiled placing a long kiss to his lips.  
“I can’t help it. I hate that I have to leave you all the time. And now we have this place, and for the first time in a while I’m settled and happy, and now I’ve got to pick up and leave again. I don’t want you to hate me.”   
“Hate you?” you scrunched your nose, pulling your face away slightly.  
“Yeah. I don’t want you to look back and think that you wasted your time on a guy that could barely be there for you. I just want to make sure that you’re happy, regardless if that’s with me ore not. I’m just scared you’ll come to your senses one day.” He sighed tucking a hair behind your ear.  
This was all new to you, you’d never heard him talk like this. You’d had the discussion before, how the both of you hated goodbyes but you always reassured him you support him, how proud you are of him and that you weren’t going anywhere. But this was a new confession, and it hurt you.  
“Baby, where is this coming from?”  
“It’s just all the tour preparations and stuff. I thought it was going to be easier ya know with time. But now we’ve got this place, ya know? And I’m settled, or as settled as I can get and I don’t want to leave you just yet. But I don’t want to hold you from someone that can be here every day.”   
Each word took a little piece of you. You never knew he felt like this, you knew the goodbyes seemed to get harder for him lately but you would have never guessed all this was running through his mind. You sat up on the bed pulling him up with you, holding both of his hands in yours.  
“Zayn. I love you so much, and I’m so proud of what you’re doing and so so happy for you. And yes I miss you when you’re gone, but I promise you I’m not going anywhere, and I don’t want you stressed out, or worried about me ever, because you mean so much to me and I will be right here cheering you on for as long as you’ll have me. And I don’t want to hear you ever say anything like that again. Got it?” You stuck out your pinky finger, waiting for him to wrap his lager one around yours. It was childish to most, for the two of you, it was something special. It was how you settled nearly every argument, and never has one of your pinky promise contracts been broken.   
“Got it. I promise.” He said with a smile, wrapping is finger around yours before placing a kiss on the back of your hand before bringing your lips together. He laid back down, you close to his chest, draping the cover over the two of you.   
“Love you baby.”  
“Love you too.”


End file.
